


Dark Gray Lenses (Frightened of the Sun)

by cirquedusoleil



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Claudia Stilinski, Alive Hale Family, Bilingual Stiles Stilinski, Fae & Fairies, I Don't Even Know, If You're Triggered By Cutting, M/M, Or Blood Drinking, Ritual Cutting, Serious Warning, So Creepy, This Fic is Not For You, Trigger Warnings, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cirquedusoleil/pseuds/cirquedusoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The light sharped and fluttered, and for just one precious moment, it looked like angelic wings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Gray Lenses (Frightened of the Sun)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone! So, I have no idea where this fic came from, I kinda dreamed about it and then I found my fingers typing the first chapter. I may continue this, I may not, who knows. Anyways, I apologize if my Polish translations are off, I only speak English, though I wish I were bilingual. As usual, warnings at the end. Enjoy!

_The snow fell quietly against the grass, the woods muted in the way that only snow could achieve. The sky was a muted gray, the clouds indistinguishable from the atmosphere. The cabin stood in a small clearing, the wood dark and uniform in its placement. Soft golden light lit up the windows, pulsing every few seconds and making the falling snow glow._

 

_Childish laughter floated out into the night, high pitched and gleeful. A small boy ran past the window, a smile stretching his small face. A woman rested in a red armchair, her long auburn hair floating around her head. She watched the child run around, a smile gracing her features and her eyes twinkling._

 

_The child stopped running, his small chest heaving up and down. The golden glow that illuminated the cabin was focused on the child, a silhouette of light that seemed to rise up from the child’s skin. His eyes were golden, and molten fire swirled in them. The golden light suddenly started rising, swirling and bunching together above the child’s shoulders. It lengthened and stretched, curving into an arc that extended from the child’s shoulder blades to just above his head. The light sharped and fluttered, and for just one precious moment, it looked like angelic wings._

 

_Then, the cabin door slammed open._

 

_Men swarmed into the room, guns raised and voices yelling. They were almost completely covered in black cloth, the only sliver of visible skin a small rectangular patch around their eyes. The woman was on her feet, eyes wild and hands raised. Her mouth moved, and red light swirled into existence around her hands. Her eyes burned crimson, and her own pair of wings blazed into existence._

 

_“ Ucieczki, Aureliusz, biegnij!” She called out, her eyes flicking to the little boy in desperation. The boy nodded his head and turned on his heel towards the back of the cabin. He pulled open the door in the corner of the room and rushed out, only to yelp as he crashed into a solid black body._

 

_The man wrapped his arms around the boy, lifting him up and over his shoulder. The woman blazed brighter and sent a flash of light towards the man, and he dropped the boy as his sleeves caught fire._

 

_The boy had barely hit the ground before another man had him by the throat and was dragging him backwards towards the door._

 

_“Matka! Pomóż!” The boy cried out, and the woman sent another blast of light towards the man. The man ducked and the light hit the wooden wall, shattering in a spectacular explosion of crystals. More red light swirled around the woman’s hands, ready to be launched, but a gunshot rang out in the cabin and the woman dropped._

 

_“Matka! Nie, proszę, pozwól mi odejść! Matka!” The little boy yelled, his own golden light roiling and pulsing desperately. The man brought his gun down on the little boy’s head, and the golden light blinked out._

 

\+ + +

 

“Stiles! Get your ass down here, now!” 

 

Stiles blinks his eyes open, the last vestiges of his dream fading away behind his eyelids. The brown, dirty wall in front of him looks the same as it always does, a faint AS etched into the wood. Muted sunlight filters in through the small, grime covered window that rests on the wall opposite the door. Stiles sighs, and forces himself to sit up. He knows better than to make Dita wait. 

 

He slips on his boots, then grabs the shirt hanging on the rusty nail next to his bed and pulls it over his head. With no mirror, he runs his hands through his hair and hopes for the best. 

 

A banging that has the floor vibrating makes him jump.

 

“Boy, hurry the hell up!

 

“I’m coming!” he yells back. 

 

Stiles hurriedly makes his bed, smoothing the sheets with one hand while plumping his pillow with the other. He crosses the small room in three large steps and slips through the door, descending the spiral steps quickly. Dita is waiting for him at the bottom, tapping her large foot impatiently. 

 

“Took you long enough, dumbass.” she snaps. Stiles rolls his eyes.

 

“I went as quickly as I could.” he says, going around Dita and entering the kitchen. Dita follows him, the floorboards creaking under her massive weight. 

 

“Don’t you sass me young man, this house ain’t gonna clean itself.” she snarls. Stiles makes a face, wishing not for the first time that he could really say what was on his mind. He grabs the bucket and scrub brush from the closet and fills the bucket up in the sink. He pours soap in and watches as it bubbles in the water. 

 

Dita sighs and wheezes heavily behind him, the only warning he gets the creaky floorboards before he gets slapped upside the head. 

 

“Hurry up! Ms. Argent is waiting, and you know how she hates to wait.” She yells. He flinches and yelps, rubbing the back of his head ruefully. He heaves the bucket out of the sink and trudges towards the dining room. Ms. Argent is sitting at the head of the table, her breakfast sitting in front of her, still steaming. 

 

She looks up, her dirty blonde hair dully reflecting the morning sun, and her yellow teeth stretching her sallow face. Her skin is marred and grimy, and she looks twice her age. 

 

“Aurelius!” she says, her voice gritty and nasally. Stiles just drops his bucket, and slowly makes his way over to her. She keeps smiling as she produces a small knife from her small breasts, her horrible breath making him want to gag.

 

“Come, my darling. I need my daily dose.” Stiles grimaces, and offers up his arm. She cradles it, smoothing her thumb down his skin, then presses the tip of the dagger into the soft flesh. Stiles winces, hating the feeling of his skin trying to heal around the metal. 

 

Golden liquid rises from the cut, slithering down is forearm and over his hand. It drips into a cup Ms. Argent has conveniently placed under his fingertips, and it pools in the bottom, slowly rising. Stiles breathes through the sting and the wet feeling, closing his eyes and tilting his head up. Ms. Argent looks manic and crazed, licking her lips and practically salivating. She digs the knife in a little too hard, and Stiles bites his lip to keep from whimpering. 

 

Once the cup is half full, Ms. Argent pulls the dagger away, and the cut heals almost immediately. Stiles takes a step back, looking away from Ms. Argent. He hates this part more than he hates the cutting. 

 

Ms. Argent takes the cup in her wrinkled hands and pushes it to her lips, draining the liquid in two large gulps. She sighs, dropping the cup with a clang onto the table. Stiles can hear Dita's heavy breathing from the doorframe, and she pushes a napkin into his hands to wipe off his arm with. 

 

A golden light pulses from behind him, and Stiles doesn't need to look to know what's happening. Ms. Argent's wrinkly skin is smoothing out, wrinkles and warts disappearing. Her hair is untangling, becoming thicker and more golden than blonde. Her eyes are lightening, her back is losing its hunch, and her teeth are straightening and whitening. She moans and sighs throughout the entire process, as she transforms from Ms. Argent to Katherine.

 

It makes Stiles sick. 

 

 

Katherine stands, her posture perfect, and walks over to where Stiles is hunched over, cleaning his arm of the golden blood. She slithers her arm over his shoulders, and leans in close, her lips barely brushing his ear.

 

“Thank you, darling. You may go now, Dita will call you for lunch.” Her voice is musical and soft, and it sends tendrils of disgust down his spine. 

 

He picks up his bucket and hurries out of the room.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: Kate Argent, Ritual Cutting, Blood Drinking, General Creepiness


End file.
